


Make a Wish

by claudinedelyon



Series: Translator AU [6]
Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Birthday Party, Established Relationship, Family Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, POV Martino, just so much fluff, this is just a big lovefest, translator AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-05-20 20:06:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19383793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claudinedelyon/pseuds/claudinedelyon
Summary: It is Martino's 30th birthday, and while his family and his closest friends are gathered to celebrate him, Martino himself has his own agenda.





	Make a Wish

“Happy birthday, old man!” Elia greets Martino while making his way inside the house.

“You’re two months younger than me.”

“Maybe, but I’m not 30 dressing like I’m 90,” Elia replies, giving him a once-over.

“No, you still dress exactly like you did when you were 19.”

“So do you, that’s what’s so sad about it.”

Thankfully, he’s led Elia into the living room by now, and there are too many people to greet for them to get sucked into one of these conversations that go around in a circle and never lead anywhere like they used to in college, usually around 3 am the day after a big exam. Elia makes the rounds, shaking hands, introducing himself to the people he hasn’t met yet, until he joins Luca, Giovanni, Eva and Gaia, the youngest of the gathering, who is kicking at the air from the wrap tied around her father’s chest.

With a look around the room, Martino realizes that, now that everybody is here, it is only a matter of time before Paola or his dad decide to bring in the cake, and then it will be too late. While people are still chatting and catching up, he nervously feels for his right pocket before making his way towards Niccolò, who is squeezed on the sofa with Sana, Tarek and Amna. They all turn to him when he approaches.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, can I talk to you for a minute, Ni?”

“Oh, sure. I’ll be right back.”

“You get him all the time, Marti. Let the man breathe,” Tarek teases while Niccolò extracts himself from his seat between Sana's brother and his wife.

As they make their way towards the kitchen, Giovanni sends Martino a questioning look and, in answer to his nod, gives him an encouraging thumbs-up.

 

Martino closes the door behind them, and while Nico leans against the kitchen counter, fishes out the bag he had stuck in a cabinet when they got here.

“Is everything okay?” Nico asks.

“Yes, everything’s fine. I just had something for you.”

Martino takes out a package from the bag and hands it to him. The question that had been in Nico’s eyes vanishes to be replaced with glee. “Do you not know how birthdays work? You’re the one who gets gifts.” 

“Shut up. Consider it an early anniversary present,” Martino replies, holding the gift closer to him.

Niccolò finally takes it and his smile grows as soon as he feels what it is. It’s been a while, almost two years, since Martino was gifted the third and last volume of the “Life-Saving Guides to Grammar and Punctuation” (ages 15-18 this time), but of course Niccolò wouldn’t forget something like that. Martino was pretty much counting on it. With a brief laugh, Nico tears the paper open to reveal a book, and he reads the title before looking up at Martino, who feels deservedly smug at his reaction. From where he is, he can clearly see the “Recipes for Little Chefs” in bright red letters that had him burst into laughter in the middle of the store.

“Ha, very funny. You’re attacking my cooking again.” Niccolò is trying hard to bite back on his amusement and failing.

“And you might want to check out that recipe for carbonara, so we will be spared another disaster.”

“Are you still holding a grudge about that? It’s been three years, Marti. Let it go.”

It had been their third date and the first night he had spent at Nico’s place. They had ended up having to order pizza after an unfortunate incident involving guanciale that was way past its sell-by date and overcooked pasta which, in all fairness, had been forgotten because Martino had taken to distracting the cook by every means possible, some of which could definitely be considered disloyal. Niccolò makes to put the book down on the table, which Martino witnesses in utter disbelief given all the teasing he had had to endure the first two times for not figuring out that there was always more to the book.

“Maybe you should have a look now, the sooner you start committing it to memory, the better.”

“Now? But Paola said she wanted to serve the cake soon.”

“Ni,” Martino insists, tamping down on the frustration that is beginning to wind itself around the small knot of nervousness in his stomach. “Will you open the book?”

He finally seems to realize what is going on and his expression turns teasing. “Oh no. Is this revenge?”

“You’ll see.”

As Niccolò flips through the book, Martino puts his hand into his pocket and hooks his index inside the ring that has been burning his thigh through the fabric for the past few hours. He reads on Nico’s face the moment when he finds the blue Post-it and extracts the ring to present it to him. Nico’s eyes go from the page to the ring, the mahogany band lined with silver, to Martino and back to the book. The silence in the room is growing heavier and the only sound that breaks it is the rustling of clothes as Niccolò falls into his arms in an embrace. Martino immediately hugs him back, one hand around Nico’s back and the other gently stroking his hair.

From where he is standing, he has a direct line of sight to the kitchen door so he can see it open slowly and a blond head appear in the doorway.

“So?” Luca stage-whispers, as if somehow only Martino would hear him. Behind him, Elia and Eva are trying to peek into the kitchen as well.

“I don’t know, Luchi, he still hasn’t said anything.” Niccolò pinches him but still doesn’t move or speak. “You okay there, Ni?” Martino whispers in his ear. “There are other people who want to give you a hug.”

“I don’t care,” is the answer mumbled against his shoulder.

Martino snorts and holds him tighter. When Niccolò finally lets go, he puts just enough distance between them to look him in the eye before he answers. “Yes.”

And of course, Martino knew it was a yes, he has known for months if not longer, he has been sure of it since that look Nico had given him during Filippo and Andrea’s wedding, but he was not prepared for the way that hearing the word would make him feel. And he understands Nico’s initial reaction because now, he is the one who kind of want to bury his face in his neck for a minute or ten. Instead, he rests their foreheads together and breathes out.

“Thank God, or that would have been really embarrassing.”

Niccolò laughs and kisses him. As if from a distance, they hear Eva’s voice chiding the guys, “For fuck’s sake, give them some privacy.”

There is the sound of shuffling, then the door closing, and finally silence.

 

When they finally emerge back into the living room, Niccolò having slipped the ring onto his finger and spent a good minute just staring at it as his eyes got progressively shinier, they are immediately overtaken by both Elia and Luca who have been standing guard outside the door. Once they’re done with their heartfelt congratulations, they get separated as Nico’s parents approach while Giovanni almost launches himself at Martino as if he didn’t have a cranky 5-month-old strapped to his chest. Said 5-month-old immediately manifests her displeasure at being so brutally squished between her father and godfather and starts wailing. They turn their attention to soothing the crying baby, putting off further congratulations and offers of being best man for now. As Giovanni rocks her back and forth, Martino rambles nonsense to distract her. When her godfather gets on her eye level, Gaia’s whimpers progressively die down until they stop, and she looks at him in apparent fascination. Whenever she does it, Gio always claims that it’s because of the red hair and she believes he’s secretly her real dad. Martino thinks it’s because she’s 5 months old and babies are fascinated by anything. He still basks in her undivided attention, even though he knows he only has it because he’s a new thing in her line of sight.

He doesn’t get to bask for long as his dad and Paola are next in line, so he stands up and receives a brief hug from his dad. Their relationship is no longer as strained as it had been when he had tried to introduce his first boyfriend to him, but it never got back to what it had been when he was a kid either. Thankfully, Paola’s always here to make things easier and he finds himself hugging her affectionately, which he would never have imagined when he had first looked her up on Facebook to see what she looked like. She’s steadily grown on him since high school, when she always had special attentions for him whenever he went to visit his father’s new family.

Her son, Aurelio, who gives him a fist bump before disappearing into the kitchen to get the cake ready, has also grown on him. There’s enough of an age difference between them for any jealousy he might have felt at first to quickly fizzle out once he had met the kid and realized he couldn’t exactly resent a six-year-old for his father’s decisions.

And of course, there’s Noemi, who is spoiled rotten by all of them by virtue of being the youngest in the family. He had decided, about two weeks after she was born, that repeating “my step-brother and my half-sister” was way too much effort. And since nobody needed to know the details of his family situation, they were just his siblings now. It had been an adjustment, after growing up an only child, to become a big brother, once at 17 to a six-year-old with a lot of opinions, and unexpectedly, a second time at 19, to the tiniest human being he had ever met, at least until Gaia was placed in his arms, at barely two weeks old. For the moment, Noemi has probably become bored with all the grown-ups in the room and is nowhere to be seen, although chances are she will reappear as if by magic the second the cake is brought into the room.

His mother is standing by the French windows, and Martino thinks he notices her wiping her eyes, while Musa rubs her back comfortingly. He still has no idea what is happening between the two of them. She assures him he’s just a friend, but he doesn’t know whether or not to believe her. Either way, he’s been a warm and reliable presence in her life for the past few years, and for that he is grateful. It helps that, although he is not very comfortable with too many people around, Musa is a kind man with a unique sense of humor and a seemingly inexhaustible well of stories to tell. Once he and Nico get going, they are practically impossible to separate. Martino makes his way in their direction, glancing at Nico who is being surrounded by their friends. His mother opens her arms when she notices him approaching.

“Mom, why are you crying? You knew it was happening,” he complains, wrapping his arms around her.

“I’m not crying.”

“Right, you’re not. It’s your hay fever. In March.”

She smacks his arm. “I’m happy for you, what’s wrong with that?”

Musa gives him a warm handshake. “If you think that’s too much, try to imagine what it’ll be like at the wedding.”

Martino laughs. “Don't remind me.”

“Will you two shut up?” She wipes her eyes one more time and strokes his cheek as if he was still an eight-year-old with bruised knees. “I’m proud of you, honey.”

He’s about to respond when he hears his name called and turns around to Luca approaching, closely followed by Elia, who is laughing, and a now baby-less Gio, who is not. So, chances are, whatever Luca has to say is going to be either really good or really bad. Probably somehow both at the same time.

“Marti, I have a question,” he opens directly.

“Leave him alone, Luchi,” Gio immediately cuts him off.

“No, that’s okay, ask away.” Martino’s probably going to regret it, but he’s feeling generous.

“Nico showed us the post-it, and it says ‘Will you marry me?’”

He looks at Martino like he’s expecting an answer, except Martino is not quite sure what he’s supposed to be answering, so he eggs him on. “Yes?”

“But I thought same-sex marriage wasn’t legal yet, that it was a civil union thing,” Luca finally clarifies.

“I think they know that,” Elia points out.

“Yeah, we know that," Martino confirms. "But unfortunately, ‘Will you get into a civil union with me?’ just doesn’t quite have the same ring to it. Nico couldn't have told you that himself?"

“He said to ask you because it was your idea.”

“Of course he did.”

He looks behind them and finds Nico examining the book and deep in conversation with Sana. Martino excuses himself to walk up to them. Sana is pointing at something on the back cover, and as he approaches, he catches the end of what she’s telling him.

“I think you have to do it, Nico. This is unacceptable.”

“What is?” Martino asks.

They both look up to him, and Nico heaves a pretend sigh. “Marti, I’m sorry, but I have to take back my yes.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Unfortunately, yes. There’s a typo here, look.” Nico points at the book that Sana holds out towards him.

“Marti, how could you?” She adds, shaking her head in disapproval.

Looking at the description, Martino has to admit that yes, there is a typo, a letter is missing from the tagline at the bottom. He looks up to find Sana and Nico giving him a similarly disappointed look, an eerie feat given that they are not even related. He assumes that’s what growing up together does to people.

“You idiots know I didn’t write it, right?”

“No, but you picked it, Marti. You picked it,” Nico laments.

“Fine. You know what, I’m taking it back. Give it to me.”

As he tries to grab the book from Sana, she hands it to Nico, who in turn quickly hides it behind his back. “No, I’m keeping it.”

“Why? Why would you want a book with a typo on it?”

“As evidence. Against you. I’ll show it to Filo.” He gasps. “Or to Gio. He’ll be crushed that you’re not actually the best.”

“Give me the book.”

“No. How am I going to learn how to cook?”

“I don’t know. You’re a grown man, Google it, that’s what everybody else does.”

“Okay, I don’t want any part of this, but I’m with Nico,” Sana chimes in before turning away from them to join Amna and Eva.

“Of course you are!” Martino shouts after her as Nico raises the book high above his head. Martino gives him a look. “I’m taller than you.”

“I said I’m keeping it.”

With a glance to the book that he could easily take from him, Martino considers his options. The easiest way to do it would be to grab Nico to make sure he doesn’t squirm away. If it had been just the two of them, he would have gone for that option, but they are in a room full of people. The other option would be to tickle him to make him lower his arm, but Niccolò hates being tickled and he will sulk if he tries it. That doesn’t sound like the best way to kick off an engagement. Meanwhile, Nico is looking at him with a challenge in his eyes and something has to be done about that. Luckily for everybody’s dignity, Martino’s father interrupts them.

 “Come on, enough of that. Some people want to have cake and we can’t have it if you’re not here, Marti.”

 

While they were making their rounds, being congratulated by the people they love, Aurelio has brought the cake and placed it on the table. Martino comes to stand next to him while he and Paola start lighting the candles. Someone burrows between him and Lio, and Noemi’s dark curls appear between her brothers. After hovering at the outskirts of the circle of grown-ups, eager but unable to have a conversation with most of the guests, she had eventually found her way towards Gaia sitting in her carrier and had signed an intricate tale for the entranced baby until she fell asleep. After that, Luca had decided to try out what he had learned in his sign language classes and had struck, to Noemi’s great delight, a conversation about her favorite supernatural TV show which he had happened to work on. Now, she examines the cake with circumspection before turning towards Martino.

“Did you help with the cake?” He signs once he is sure that she is looking at him.

She signs back, beaming.

“Really? Lio let you do the icing? He never lets anyone help.”

She puffs up with pride, but doesn’t answer, instead moving on to a subject that she is clearly more interested in: “Mom said you’re getting married.”

“I am.”

“To him?” She points to Nico who is trying to appeal to his rudiments of sign language to follow the conversation and perks up at being singled out.

“Well, yes, who else?”

“Why?”

“Why? I thought you liked Nico,” Martino frowns, surprised at her reaction.

“No, why is he marrying _you?_ ” She shoots back.

Next to them, Aurelio snorts. Martino remembers fondly what it was like to be an only child.

“That’s a good question,” Aurelio points out before turning to Niccolò. “Why are you marrying him?”

In answer to the questioning look Nico gives him, Martino shakes his head and washes his hands of the whole thing. Whatever he tells them probably won’t satisfy them anyway.

“Taxes,” he answers finally, and by miracle, they accept it.

 

Now that all the candles have been lit, people start singing. Next to Noemi, her father signs the words and she joins in as soon as she recognizes them. When Luca tries to imitate them, she takes to signing extra carefully in his direction. Gaia looks around in wide-eyed astonishment, one hand still bundled in Sana’s hijab. The song ends mercifully quickly enough and all eyes turn to Martino as he leans against the table to lower himself to the cake’s level.

The idea of turning 30 used to make Martino anxious until a few months earlier, when he had been sitting in bed, leaning against Nico, watching something he doesn’t even remember on Netflix and still recovering from the flu, with the cat stretched out on the cover between his knees. It occurred to him in that moment that he had a job he loved for the most part and where he got to see his best friends every day, that he was living with the man of his life and that he had managed to surround himself with strong and fulfilling relationships. Life had suddenly seemed much sweeter than it did at 20, when he was halfway through a degree he wasn’t quite sure what to do with yet and before he had figured out what he could expect from friends or boyfriends alike. Today, the thirty candles which are about to start melting over the chocolate icing do not seem that scary anymore. He takes a deep breath, ready for his official send-off into his thirties, when Noemi grabs his arm before he can and signs something.

“Did you make a wish?” He translates for everybody else.

Martino looks at the grinning faces surrounding them one by one and finds Nico’s eyes across the table last. He turns back to where she’s waiting for his answer.

“It’s okay, I don’t think I need to.”

**Author's Note:**

> [That book](http://www.cuochiperungiorno.it/unanteprima-specialeil-supericettario-di-cuochi-per-un-giorno/) is real, by the way, and it's the "piccoli chef" that really made it perfect.  
> 


End file.
